


Bleeding Hearts: Drabbles

by DestructiveEmpathy



Category: Charlie Countryman (2013), Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal, Biting, Fireplace sex, First Time, M/M, Nightmares, impatient Will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-11 19:21:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7904590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestructiveEmpathy/pseuds/DestructiveEmpathy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of explicit one-shots and drabbles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Recovery

The moon’s silver light shone through the house. Their suitcases were all but packed. The house was empty besides the orange and gold open fire and a bed.

Nigel was padding around the place after his shower, pawing over the suitcases. Perhaps he could understand what had happened better if he understood what Hannibal had intended for Will.

A click of the bathroom door jolted him from his mind.

Will stood in the doorway, skin flush from the hot water and all he wore was an egyptian cotton towel on his waist. “Hannibal?”

It had taken Will every ounce of his courage to try make the first move. It would likely be a stupid mistake, but a man has needs and it felt like they’d been waiting for far too long.

Will had been in the shower about to take himself in hand and think of Hannibal’s hands on him, when he had stopped himself. Hannibal was in the other room, in love with him and a better fit than Will had ever imagined.

“Aren’t you gonna get dressed? Or did you forget your fucking clothes again?” Nigel asked, his tone amused.

Will shook his head and moved towards Hannibal, cupping his cheek in his hot hand. He kept his eyes on Hannibal’s as he leaned up and pressed his warm lips to Hannibal’s soft ones.

Pushing his fingers through Will’s hair, Nigel tugged at the curls. “You don’t want this.”

“Do you?”

“Of course I fucking do.”

“Then I _fucking_ do too.” Will leaned in and kissed him again, biting at his lips as a challenge.

Nigel felt the strange conflict within him boil up and over. He wanted to take Will hard and fast or slow and deep. He didn’t care how as long as they were together. But he knew Will wouldn’t be having sex with Nigel Lecter. Will would believe he was being fucked by Hannibal Lecter.

Will’s towel pooled at his feet as he stepped back. His skin glowed in the firelight, body shining with desire.

All of Nigel’s worries fell away for that moment. And the moment after as he took Will’s arms and pulled him hard so they were chest to chest. The next kiss was messy and biting. Their tongues clashed and bodies rocked against each other.

They were a mess of limbs as Nigel spun Will around to face the fireplace. “You fucking sure you want this?” Nigel said as he pulled a packet of lube from his shower bag.

Will braced his arms against the fireplace mantel panting heavily. His whole body was trembling and lips were sore. “Fucking sure.” He watched the flames flicker and dance in front of him. This would be his and Hannibal’s first time and they weren’t on a bed? Will had always taken Hannibal as a more traditional lover aside from maybe a few kinks.

Something cool dripped between Will’s cheeks, something gently stroking it over his hole. It was hard to keep his moans quiet, this being his first venture into this. Will bit his lip to try to suppress his deep, wanton whimpers.

The desperate and needy sounds Will was making drew Nigel to go faster. He revelled in the moment, his cock pressing hard in his pants. “Fuck Will.” He began to push his finger into Will’s tight hole.

Will began to grow louder, biting down on his arm as he felt himself being filled up. He shifted, parting his legs further.

It took Nigel a long time to slowly open Will up. He didn’t want to break him.

“Fucking God, Hannibal… Do it already. I’m melting here.” Will wasn’t talking about the fireplace.

It was only a short moment until he felt the fingers pull out. He didn’t hear Nigel’s pyjama pants fall before he felt something smooth press against him.

Will could hear his heart in his ears and feel his body weaken.

A light burning began pouring through him as he felt Hannibal push into his tight hole. “Fuck.” Will rested his forehead on the mantelpiece and stared into the flames as he tried to relax.

Something throbbed in him, making his heart race as he felt a pressure inside him.

“Mm, Will you’re so fucking tight.”

“Don’t… get too cocky,” Will said, breathless. “But you’re my first.”

Nigel leaned in and kissed the back of Will’s neck. “I’m fucking honoured, my love.” Nigel leaned back and began to pull out and slowly pushed back in. He started to grow faster as he took Will.

It was hard for Will not to cry out each time Hannibal’s cock began to send thrills through him. Each thrust stroked and pounded his prostate and sent him into breathless grunts and moans. “H-Hannibal… Hannibal, fuck.” He bit down deep onto his arm and rocked back into the hard thrusts. It felt like a blissful eternity until he stilled, crying out into his arm.

Will came across the fireplace, his body a trembling mess.

Nigel wasn’t so quick to please, but Will’s orgasm sent waves of pleasure through him. Will’s tight hole tightened around him and drove Nigel to take him faster. “Fuck, Will. Love.” Nigel panted into Will’s back, fingers digging into his hips.

Leaning back, Will tangled his fingers in Hannibal’s hair and tugged. “I love you,” he said, voice thick with satisfied lust.

With three hard thrusts, Nigel stilled spilling deep within Will.

They both took their time to part. Each languid kiss they shared was beyond words.

It wasn’t until the morning they realised quite how harsh they’d been with each other. Bitemarks and bruises marked their scarred skin as they sailed across the sea under the blazing sun to Europe.

 

 


	2. Missing

Will Graham sat on the cliff edge drinking a scotch as the sun set. It shone bright, purples and golds atop the shimmering blues and silvers of the sea. The air was so fresh and cool against his browned skin.

The smell of dinner barely touched the flowery scents of nature. Hannibal was somewhere in the house, cooking.

A small figure in the far distance struck Will’s attention. Something had drifted ashore and it felt a rock sink in his gut. Whatever the dark figure was on the golden beach, it was still for everything but the waves as they stroked it.

Will knew he was being unreasonably worried, but panic set in and he found himself on the beach below the cliff. The sound of Hannibal’s yells echoed from above but Will couldn’t and wouldn’t stop himself from running. It took an eternity before he reached it.

The white shirt was pink with diluted blood. It was almost clear from the seawater. Bronze skin glistened with salt and his hair was as short as the day they’d parted.

Hannibal laid there, maroon eyes blankly staring out through him. The yells were still ringing out above the waves, but the sound of Hannibal’s voice was like a ghost to him.

Will reached out to touch the beautiful curve of his eternally still lips.

Hannibal was dead.

Tears stung Will’s eyes at the memory of what they’d had together. Memories of what he’d done to Hannibal. They had wanted a life together but this whole time he’d been dead.

A sharp jolt in Will’s sighed awoke Will with a harsh gasp. Tears ran down his cheeks and he couldn’t stop himself from crying.

For that brief moment Will believed Hannibal was really dead. When he reached out for his Bufferin, he felt a soft warmth beneath his hand. He turned and noticed the body of someone beside him as the moonlight poured blue and silver silhouettes on the person’s body.

“Hannibal?”

Nigel shifted in the bed, grunting as he woke. “Hmm, Will?”

Will smiled and leaned down to kiss him. Hannibal didn’t need to know about Will’s nightmares.

But Nigel knew. He always knew.


	3. The Curtain Has Fallen

The sea lapped at the sides of the boat Hannibal had prepared for them long before he’d even been caught those three years ago. It was like a miniature mansion with a bar, a full kitchen and a room with a glass floor. Hannibal had meant this to be their home between homes. The start of their new life.

Will laid in bed, the cool cotton sheets against his bare skin as he watched Hannibal sleep. The warm sun shone through the window at Will’s golden browned back as he propped himself up on his side.

It was of course only for a few minutes before he grew bored and climbed out of bed to change. Out this far at sea, he didn’t see the need to wear much. He pulled on some simple shorts and a thin t-shirt before he headed out to the top deck to admire the cool breeze.

He hummed a tune as he sat on a chair facing the sea. Something sad sat low within his voice, an image swimming through his mind again and again. Hannibal laying on that beach, a torn up wet carcass all while his voice yelled out to Will haunted him. That dream had felt so real.

Even after the sex, the soft words and gentle caresses Hannibal’s attempts at easing Will’s worry hadn’t done as much as they hoped. 

Images of the Hannibal Will had known blended seamlessly with the boat he’d chosen them. The best of both he and Will. But this new Hannibal was a stark contrast, like a blood red image on a black and white background.

Without a word, Will returned into the boat and began rummaging through the small office to try to find the envelopes with their new identities. Maybe knowing who they were meant to be would help ease Will’s thoughts of the past.

It wasn’t long until he had two large and heavy brown envelopes with their identities in.

Will found he would become Nathaniel Beckett-Chevalier, born in Surrey, England. He studied at Cambridge and opened a veterinary practice. The reason he was moving to Europe with his new husband was because they wanted to buy and preserve ancient buildings left in disarray.

But when Will saw Hannibal’s new identity, his heart dropped. Prim and proper, Hannibal would become Emmanuel Chevalier.

Will felt sick and immediately stuffed the paperwork back into the envelope. He hunted for his gun and sat on the kitchen floor panting. He couldn’t get his head around this. Hannibal had known his new identity. He’d have memorised it for months ahead. But why had he taken up this harsh and violent persona? Mr Chevalier was not the type to swear every other word. He was not one to wear misshapen shirts and keep them untucked.

“Will? Where are you?” Nigel padded nude through the boat until he stopped in the kitchen. “What the fuck are you doing on the floor? I thought we were due a round two of last night?”

Will’s tear filled eyes were no longer blind. The build, the scars and the man’s very accent was nothing like Hannibal. There had always been something different about him and now Will could see it all.

“Who are you?” Will’s fingers whitened around the cold grip of the gun.

“Will? It’s me? What the fuck is wrong-” Nigel froze when he noticed the gun. “Will…”

“Who the fuck are you?” Will pointed the gun at the man as he pushed his way up off the floor. “And where the fuck is Hannibal? The man I thought was fucking me last night?”

“I don’t know. Please Will…”

“Don’t bullshit me. I can work this boat all on my own and I’m not afraid of making your last moments very painful. Now where the fuck is my friend?”

Nigel put his hands up. “I don’t know. Fucking hell, Will I just don’t. I’m as confused as you.”

“Not so confused. You abused my trust. You let me think you were Hannibal. I let you in my fucking bed!”

“I wanted to tell you. You were too injured. It was then too fucking late. You were on me like a fucking rash and I’m a man. A man’s gotta fuck.”

Will’s face straightened, tilting his head. “You think that is a good excuse? You should had left me to die. Or maybe told the truth? Or even rejected me. No. You abused that trust. I don’t want to fuck a stranger.”  He pressed the barrel of the gun to the man’s temple. “What is your name?”

“Nigel Lecter.” Nigel’s breath lowered, ready to act if Will went any further.

“Tell me the truth, Nigel… Where is Hannibal?”

“I was fucking telling the truth.”

“I don’t believe you.” Will pulled the hammer back.

It was a flash and brief moment until WIll found himself face-down and pinned to the floor. Nigel’s heavy weight pressed down on the small of his back. A hot breath struck his neck.

“I’ll fucking tell you where my brother is. You killed him. You fucking killed my twin. You’re lucky you’re pretty and that he loved you or I’d have fucking given you a hell of fucking pain.” Nigel’s voice was a low snarl in Will’s ear.

Will tried to push up and knock Nigel off, but he was immovable. “He didn’t know how to love,” he said through gritted teeth.

“No? But I do. I take love very fucking seriously. And I fucking loved my brother. Would kill for him.”

The cold barrel pressed against Will’s temple.

“But our time together had been special and I can’t work this piece of shit boat by myself. We can either pretend none of this happened or move on. Accept the man we both loved was murdered by his own fucking stupidity… Or I can leave you a fucking mess of blood and brains in this kitchen and call some friends to try find me.”

Will’s chin was tight against the floor, forcing him to grit his teeth. “I don’t like any of those options.”

“No, but you’re an overly emotional, stupid fucking bent cop with a gun to his head. You don’t have any other choices.” Nigel’s finger stroked the trigger. He really didn’t want to ruin his pretty face, but it would be the best way if he killed him. No longing when he had to look him in the eye and toss him overboard.

Will broke down in sobs, just the realisation that he’d killed Hannibal and now he was going to be killed or worse by his brother.

Nigel’s fury fell from his face as he watched his once-lover sob into the floor. “Choose moving on, Will. Then we can both get over Hannibal together.”

Will nodded, his tears stilling for the moment. “We have to get to know each other, Nigel.”


	4. Summertime Soiree

The golden sun shone bright over the sea and the mingling upperclass. It reflected from their champagne flutes and each tiny bubble in their gold drink. Everyone had rolled up to the soiree in their yachts and were either inside the palatial seafront home, or were on the beach in their ballgowns.

One boat stood out prime against all of the rest. It was large, sleek and nearly the size of a house in itself. The Ganymede was the pride of the French shores, and had been since it appeared unexpectedly a month ago.

As The Ganymede pulled to port and docked amongst the others, the crowds of rich and famous turned to watch. Two men appeared, arm in arm.

The older one had prominent cheekbones and a distinctive black suede Tom Ford tuxedo. His hair was slicked back and a smirk was on his lips, amused as he watched the crowds stare on awestruck.

The younger husband was the kind of relaxed that only a well-trained actor could pull off. He wore a midnight blue suit and no tie.

Everyone knew of the Chevaliers, since they’d attended the Winter Ball at the operahouse. One had displayed his skills at playing the piano while the other had mingled with the most important of the high-society.

“I think we’re being watched,” Will said, a smirk crossing his lips.

“No shit Sherlock.” Nigel was laughing under his breath, beginning to understand just why Hannibal had enjoyed this lifestyle. The adoration and adulation was addictive.

“Just don’t have all those oyster canapes, like last time.”

“Can’t handle me high on aphrodisiacs?”

“I can’t handle the the sound of you eating them.” Will chuckled and nudged his ‘husband’. He then parted from him and disappeared into the crowd.

The evening went well as they both enjoyed the alcohol, food and each other’s company. The other attendees to the charity event were little more than pleasant distractions.

“Have you been at the oysters again?”

“I don’t fucking need oysters to want you.”

“No, but you said yourself that it helps.” Will whispered as he watched Nigel close the door behind them.

“It does fucking help… It also helps that I’ve had the image of you with your ass in the air, all day.” Nigel pulled him into him by his belt and scattered hot kisses over Will’s neck. He breathed in his addictive scent, moaning into his skin.

Of course Nigel had been dreaming of this all day. He’d woken up with morning wood after a night of desperate dreams, only to be turned down by Will.

Will had insisted that sex could wait and that they were busy all day. So Nigel hadn’t been able to get the hot images from his mind. It didn’t help that Nigel had tried to masturbate three times and only managed to get himself so far before he was forced to do something ‘productive’. He’d practically had an erection all day.

“Not very creative.” Will leaned in, dragging his lips across Nigel’s jaw. “You don’t want me tied up or straddling you?”

Nigel growled and dug his fingers into Will’s asscheeks, kneading them. “You fucking diva.” He harshly pushed his hips against Will’s, his knee parting Will’s legs.

Will moaned as his legs began to be urged apart, Nigel’s thigh stroking against his crotch. He could feel his heart in his ears. “Fucking hell, Nigel,” he said, breathless. He rocked down against the thigh. “You’re pushy today.”

“You don’t like?” Nigel would always stop if Will wanted him to.

“I love.” Will leaned up, kissing Nigel deeply. His teeth dug into Nigel’s lip and pulled it until he could hear Nigel’s groans.

Their hips moved erratically, Nigel’s erection straining in his pants. He could feel Will’s length grow hard against his thigh. “Turn around.”

They’d never fucked facing each other and neither knew why not. It just happened like that. A primal bout of biting and rutting, before Nigel usually spun Will around and fucked him into whatever surface they had. They were animals.

This time was no different, Will’s pants were by his knees as he knelt on the bed. Nigel prepared and stretched him as quickly as he could before Will was kicking at him to get him to hurry up.

Nigel chuckled, grabbing himself with one hand. “So fucking impatient, beautiful.” He pushed himself against Will, entering him an inch at a time hoping to hear Will’s delicious noises. “Sing for me, Will.”

Will reached back, gripping Nigel’s hand. His fingernails dug into the skin. “Fuck!” He dragged Nigel’s arm forwards so he could sink his teeth into his hot skin.

Nigel began to slowly fuck into him, growling at the sharp feel of teeth in his skin. He could feel blood bloom up where Will’s teeth had dug in. “Fucking fuck.” He rocked harder and harder with each throb of pain Will drew from him.

There were people moving down the hall just outside the room, Will’s whines and Nigel’s growls only just audible through the door. They didn’t care. They just wanted to consume each other.

“N-Nigel,” Will said, as his voice was forced from him with a harsh thrust. He glanced over his shoulder, blood on his lips. “Nigel.”

Will’s knees buckled beneath him, crumbling onto the bed. He buried his face into the duvet, crying out. He spilled against the bed and lay panting.

Nigel gripped Will’s neck and lifted him into a breathless kiss. “Gonna… gonna come, beautiful.” His thrusts grew erratic and harsher as he began to let go. Each sent hot waves of dizzying euphoria through him.

It was a blissful haven of silence as they began to recover from their orgasms.

Will crawled out from under Nigel to pull his pants up and cleaned up the mess he’d made on the Mayor’s duvet. “Nigel, we should get mingling.” He buckled up his belt and wiped the sweat from his brow.

“Yeah yeah. I’m fucking comin’.” Nigel sat up and smirked at Will. “Wish the world could see you like that. See the way you crumble for only me.” He stood and pulled his pants up.

“Even you don’t see me crumble for you… You’re too busy fucking me from behind.” Will opened the bedroom door and stepped out into the now empty corridor.


End file.
